"Very well…" the Bellard man said in a low voice. His eyes, however, were murderous, dark and predatory, as if he were ready to swallow the assistant manager whole. Though the guards restrained him, his gaze alone was enough to send a chill down her spine.
Still, she held her ground. She refused to be intimidated. Yet her instincts as a woman screamed in warning, a sinister dread clawing at her chest as unease settled deep within her.
Then, just before turning away, the Bellard man cast Hera a fleeting look, one laced with the same cold, unsettling malice.
The Bellard man shook the guards' hands and began escorting Alice out. But just before stepping through the door, he paused, fumbled in his chest pocket, and tossed a golden card onto the marble floor. The metallic clink echoed through the silent hall, a clear message: that he didn't care about the membership, and it was a deliberate slap at Hera's people.
